


By a Thread

by TheBlueSheep



Category: Gintama
Genre: Gen, Joui War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-21
Updated: 2015-01-17
Packaged: 2018-02-09 19:19:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1994799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBlueSheep/pseuds/TheBlueSheep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The night was long. The day after that would be even longer. If they had any luck, that is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Prologue**

It was a battlefield. It was always a battlefield. A battlefield where they were the losing side. They had been the losing side for too long now. Those monsters invaded their peace, took their country, and killed their friends. The monsters’ will was weaker, but their weapons were stronger and more effective, their numbers larger. A strong resolve can keep you going until the end, but once you’ve reached your end and there is no one behind your back to take up your place, even the strongest will lose to the weak.

He watched as the monsters killed until the ground under their feet was painted red. There was Tanaka, a fourteen-year-old boy who had joined up a month ago after his brother never came back home. He was being slaughtered by a bear-like monster. He didn’t even last a minute against it. And there was Hachiro. They had shared a drink by the campfire just last night. Now he was staring at the ugly grey sky with glassy unseeing eyes, terror plastered on his just as grey face.

He had to do something. He had to protect them somehow. His sword was right in front of him but every time he tried to pick it up he failed. Every time he reached out, he felt as if he was being torn apart. Every time he tried to stand, the lack of air in his lungs and the pain in his chest left him lying powerlessly on the cold damp ground. He was failing his comrades, his sensei, and most of all himself. He couldn’t protect anyone.

Then there was someone standing over him. He gathered the last strength in his aching muscles and looked up, prepared to see one of those monsters. But it wasn’t. He couldn’t quite understand who it was. At the same time it was Hachiro and Tanaka, Hisashi, who had died in a siege a month ago, Takashi, who had died from a stray bullet a year ago, Satou, Yamada... everyone. It was all those whom he hadn’t protected; all those who had fallen victim to this forever damned war. And they picked up his own katana and lifted it to deal the blow that was going to end his useless life.

Maybe it was for the best. Maybe he should just die. It would be so simple. No more sorrow, no more regret. He was about to die by his own sword. It was morbidly ironical, he thought. There wasn’t anything to live for, but there was nothing appealing in death, either.

But that weak will to live didn’t stop the deadly weapon coming his way; didn’t stop the sword cutting into him; didn’t stop the vital crimson fluid from pooling around him. The terrible pain was replaced with horrifying numbness and he fell into the darkness.

He had finally lost.


	2. Not All Problems Can Be Solved with Chocolate

 

Red eyes flickered open in the dimly lighted room. He woke with a start, sitting up, only to realise it was a huge mistake. His vision blurred and his side burned up with horrible pain. He slowly lied back down and held his breath, waiting for the pain to subside and the room to stop spinning.

“You really shouldn’t be moving yet, Gintoki,” a familiar voice came through the darkness, stating the obvious.

“Zura?” he asked when he could finally breathe again, however much it hurt. “That you? What the hell..?”

“It’s not Zura, it’s Katsura,” said the man as he kneeled down next to Gintoki and looked him over, his dark brown eyes filled with poorly concealed concern. He reached out and put the back of his hand on Gintoki’s forehead to check his temperature, then frowned.

“At least you don’t have a fever,” he said as he straightened out the blanket again. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” Gintoki said, but a heavy cough that forced him to grab his chest and shudder, made his answer sound utterly unconvincing. Katsura, still frowning in concern, waited until he stopped.

“Here, drink.” He ignored a quiet complaint about how it wasn’t necessary and lifted up Gintoki’s head, raising a cup with water to his lips, urging him to drink. “You lost a lot of blood from that cut on your left side and the doctor said you cracked most of your ribs. That’s why you’re having difficulty with breathing. He also said that he doesn’t know anyone who has survived losing that much blood and that you might still die. He was new here,” he shrugged. “The others are a little further away. They made camp the best they could in the middle of the forest. Your men are staying there as well. We found this abandoned shack and brought you here so you could rest better. It’s not exactly quiet back at the camp right now.”

Besides, seeing one of the strongest fighters down with such serious injuries didn’t exactly have inspirational effects on the troops’ morale, but Katsura didn’t need to say that.

“You’re not afraid of an ambush?”

“Kiyoshi and the others are keeping a close eye on the enemy’s forces. We should be getting the intelligence soon enough. And Takasugi and Sakamoto are keeping guard here,” Katsura informed. “Well, they were drinking and playing cards, saying that the winner gets to cut up the loser when I left them, but I would like to see anyone try to sneak up on them.”

Gintoki just sighed and carefully shifted himself into a more comfortable position.

“You should stop being so reckless,” Katsura continued after a while.

“You’re the one to talk,” Gintoki snorted, “I remember seeing a familiar wig just before the explosion. Why’d you come?”

“It’s not a wig, it’s Katsura, and I’m not above letting a friend die alone in enemy territory.”

“You’re not above most things. Well, most things except maybe Takasugi...”

“I’m also not above hitting an injured man.”

“Anyway,” Gintoki changed the subject, “how’d you get away from the explosion?”

“You had taken care of most of the enemies by the time I got there so no one tried to stop me from jumping into a nearby locker.”

“A locker? You’re really something to fit into a locker, Zura. What are you, a high school freshman?”

“It’s not freshman, it’s Katsura,” he answered, but ignored the other half. “Honestly, charging in all by yourself. We had really hard time digging you out from under that wreck, you know. It’s amazing you’re still more or less in one piece.”

“Is he alive?” Gintoki only asked after a moment of silence.

Katsura’s expression turned even more serious. “He was when we left the camp. But he was also on the verge of committing seppuku for being the cause of nearly mortal injuries of the great war hero – Shiroyasha. We told him that if he did kill himself he would only make your injuries meaningless, so I think he reconsidered in the end.” He paused for a second. “Though, despite the explosion, we could still save a lot of supplies from that wreck so I guess your injuries wouldn’t be completely meaningless anyway.”

“So we won the battle?”

“Yeah, it seems it all worked out in our favour in the end, thanks to you,” Katsura said but didn’t mention that their victory in this battle was rather insignificant in the long run and would most likely only lure in even more Amanto and extra forces from the Bakufu. Another battle would probably be held in just a few days after the enemy had gathered their forces and this time they’d have to retreat.

Gintoki just sighed again and stared blankly at the ceiling, trying not to make any unnecessary movements. He had probably figured out that they were nowhere near safe at the moment, as well.

“If you’re hungry I could get you something,” Katsura offered after a minute of silence.

Gintoki sniffed the air. “Smells like soba. You cooked?”

“It would be too troublesome to carry food here from the camp. There are only some cold leftovers left, though. We already ate the most of it.”

“You got the ingredients from the ship?”

“Yeah. As I said, we got quite the loot. We even found some chocolate.” Gintoki’s eyes lit up and Katsura added quickly, “But you’re not getting any until you have eaten some proper food first.”

“Aw, c’mon. You’re acting like my mother. Chocolate _is_ proper food.”

“Well you’re not getting any. And it’s not mother, it’s Katsura,” he said, stood, and disappeared from Gintoki’s sight for a while to come back with a bowl of still steaming soba.

“Leftovers, my ass,” he mumbled quietly enough so that Katsura wouldn’t hear him. Then he tried to sit up slowly and was halfway there when sharp pain shot through his side and he winced.

“Careful,” Katsura warned and helped him sit up. “You sure you’re okay? I could just feed you if...”

“Shut up and give me the damn bowl. I’m not disabled. I can feed myself perfectly fine,” Gintoki snapped with a slightly strained voice.

Katsura doubted for a second, then decided to give him the bowl, but didn’t leave his side. He watched closely as he ate holding the chopsticks a little awkwardly with his bandaged right hand, ready to support in case he started to sway. For a while, only a loud slurping sound could be heard. When Gintoki finished the small portion in the bowl, Katsura took it back.

“Want some more?” he asked, but Gintoki shook his head and Katsura set the bowl on the floor just in time, as Gintoki suddenly clutched his side and curled up, gritting his teeth in pain.

“H-hey, easy!” he said anxiously, supporting him from his shoulders. “Come on, you need to lie back down.” Gently, but firmly, he pushed Gintoki down. His face was deathly pale, his skin cool to the touch, and every breath he heaved came with a struggle. “Did the wound open up again?”

“No,” Gintoki wheezed out. “Just...” He made a grimace.

“Sorry,” Katsura sighed. “We managed to save most from the food supplies, but the ship’s infirmary had taken too much damage so we’re still in a severe lack of medical supplies. The doctor already gave you all the painkillers he could spare, but I think if we asked, we could get some more.”

“Don’t be stupid, Zura,” Gintoki said as he tried to calm down his breathing. “There’re others who need them more. I’ll manage. B’sides, they make me woozy.”

“If you say so,” Katsura said doubtfully.

When Gintoki finally got his breathing under control again, Katsura took out a chocolate bar from who-knows-where and handed it to him.

“Oi, oi, do I look like a good child waiting for a reward?” he said, but took it anyway.

“Yeah, you do,” Katsura smiled.

Gintoki only grunted, already biting into the chocolate.

Suddenly, there was a loud crash outside and a, _“Come back here, you damn idiot,”_ followed by just as loud, _“Ahahahaha.”_

They exchanged a glance.

“Sounds like Sakamoto lost the game.”

“Or cheated.”

“That’s actually just as likely.”

They stayed silent until Gintoki finished his chocolate, listening to the many interesting insults and the idiotic laughter that echoed through the night.

“According to the doctor you actually shouldn’t even be alive, much less awake and talking,” Katsura said, breaking the silence when he saw Gintoki fading out again. “It’ll take some time before you can join the battle again and there’s nothing you need to do right now. Go back to sleep. I’ll tell the idiots to shut up.”

“Yeah,” he answered with a sleepy yawn.

Katsura got up and walked to the door, making vicious plans on how to shut the two idiots outside up.

“Zura,” Gintoki murmured behind him sounding like he was already half asleep. Katsura stopped and looked back. “Thanks.”

He smiled and said quietly, “I have told you a million times – it’s not Zura, it’s Katsura,” to the already sleeping Gintoki.

Then he took a deep breath, turned and watched Takasugi chasing Sakamoto with his sword drawn, showing off his extensive knowledge of insults while his pray just ran and laughed, dodging his attacks with ease. Katsura waited for the perfect moment when the two were aligned and then landed a flying kick at Sakamoto’s face, making him crash into Takasugi who just barely managed not to pierce him with his sword.

“Hahaha, ow, Zura, what did you that for?” Sakamoto laughed, rubbing his nose gingerly.

Takasugi stood pushing the curly-haired samurai off himself and face first into the dusty ground, but didn’t sheath his sword.

“You’d better explain, Zura, or you will have no chance to ever speak again.”

“Haha, you’d better not do that again, Takasugi, or you’ll have no chance to ever drink Yakult again,” Sakamoto said with a surprisingly threatening tone as he dusted himself off.

“Shut up, both of you,” Katsura ordered sharply and explained, “He just woke up.”

“Really? Come on, Shinsuke-kun, let’s beat that idiot up for getting injured,” Sakamoto laughed as he headed towards the door, cracking his knuckles. Takasugi finally sheathed his sword and followed him with a barely noticeably relieved grin on his face, but Katsura caught them both by their collars.

“He fell asleep again.”

“So? That doesn’t stop us from beating him up.”

“He didn’t argue when I told him to go back to sleep,” said Katsura quietly.

Sakamoto stopped laughing and Takasugi frowned. This couldn’t be good.

“And he didn’t argue even when I told him he couldn’t fight for a while,” Katsura continued. “He said _thanks_.”

This couldn’t be good at all. They looked at each other for a few silent seconds. A warm night breeze brushed over the treetops.

“He must be pretty bad off if he’s confused enough to _thank_ someone,” Takasugi looked at Katsura sharply with his green eyes, waiting for him to report.

Katsura sighed. “It doesn’t look like he has opened up his wounds again, but it seems he has slight hypothermia. The painkillers have worn off, too. He said he didn’t want any more, but I think he’s in quite a lot of pain. And he’s coughing pretty badly. Though, he can still somewhat move and he did eat. He ate that chocolate too.”

Takasugi nodded. As long as Gintoki still wanted to corrupt his body with sweets, he was going to live. Though, that hypothermia was still worrisome.

“Sakamoto, go see if you can find some more blankets in the camp,” Takasugi ordered. “It’s warm, but not that warm, and we can’t really start a fire inside such a building,” he nodded towards the old rundown shack. “Also, ask the medic for more drugs. Zura, you stay here and watch over the idiot. Don’t let him move around if he wakes up. Use a rope to tie him down if necessary. I’ll keep watch in the meantime.”

Without waiting for their reply, Takasugi took a few steps back and after a short dash leaped onto the roof using a few wider spaces between the bricks as foothold. A single tile fell to the ground and shattered to pieces. Katsura and Sakamoto glared at the shards for a moment. Then they sighed simultaneously. Takasugi could be like that sometimes and usually neither of them would follow his orders, but it wouldn’t do their injured friend any good if they started fighting now. Katsura went to the shack, mumbling, “It’s not Zura, it’s Katsura,” under his breath, while Sakamoto took a stroll towards the camp located a few hundred meters further away down the hill.

-.-.-

At first the medic refused to give Sakamoto the painkillers, saying that he had no meds to spare for the dead, but after a quick explanation about how the dead one had more or less come back to life, he reluctantly donated some.

Blankets were a different story, though. They had been short on supplies for a while now, and even somewhat clean blankets and clothes were a luxury only the injured could afford and even then not everyone could get their hands on them. After a long search he only found two abandoned haoris which previous masters were in no condition to ever ask them back.

Then he went to raid the army’s food storage which – thanks to Gintoki’s reckless actions – was refilled again after such a long time. The guards wanted to stop him at first, but after they recognised him, let the cheerful samurai in without further questioning. Even Sakamoto could be scary if he so wanted to. From the storage he picked up some ingredients for breakfast, a bottle of sake, and tea, as it seemed that there was not going to be any sleep for the three of them that night. So might as well get drunk.

Just as he was about to head back to his friends – his loot tied into one of the haoris – a young runner caught up with him, completely out of breath. Sakamoto patiently waited for him to stop wheezing.

“Sakamoto-san... we have... the intelligence!”

 


	3. Watch out for Bedtime Stories

Katsura leaned against the doorframe and stared into the night. Seeing Gintoki sleeping so soundly, it was hard to believe that he had been talking just a few moments ago. His pale face and those dark circles around his eyes reminded Katsura of the time when they were still peacefully studying in the temple school and Gintoki had fallen ill. Back then Katsura was forced to take care of him by Shouyou-sensei. Gintoki figured out fast that Katsura had no desire to disobey Shouyou-sensei and took full advantage of that, making him fetch sweets to fulfil his unfathomable wish to consume unbounded amounts of sweet sugary things. That, of course, brought along other problems, along with Gintoki feeling even sicker in the end... But that was all before sensei was captured.

Katsura shook his head. He’d end up feeling depressed with that line of thought, but in such nights there was no real escape, so he started making tea, hoping to keep himself even just a little occupied with something else as well. He really wanted to talk to someone, but Sakamoto still hadn’t come back, making Katsura wonder what was keeping him. Though, it was probably something trivial, as always. There was no way Katsura would climb on the roof to have a chat with Takasugi. He’d make him even more miserable. And it wasn’t as if he could wake Gintoki up just because he was feeling a little lonely. They were all exhausted, but Gintoki needed sleep more than the rest of them.

When they first joined the war, they had thought that after saving sensei, everything would go back to normal. But deep down Katsura knew that even if they did managed to save Shouyou-sensei, their lives would never be normal again. He was sure that both Gintoki and Takasugi knew it too, but neither really wanted to admit it. Most other students from their class had already been killed, chopped into pieces by the Amanto on the battlefield, or captured, decapitated, and displayed by the riverside by the Bakufu. Although some of them had died trying their best to save their country, and others were dead because they wanted revenge on the same country, Katsura always said that at least they had died a death worthy for a samurai. Gintoki just laughed, saying that an honourable death doesn’t mean shit to a corpse, but Katsura knew that behind that bitter laugh he was the one who felt most guilty about it. After all, he was always the first to charge in, fighting like a demon to protect every comrade he could, but no matter how hard he fought, they just kept dying.

That was also the reason Gintoki almost died when he went to save one foolish soldier who ended up a little too close to the enemy ship. Gintoki covered his escape, but was trapped between the ship and the enemy army in an unfortunate course of action. So he did the one thing he could. He blew up the ship. Most Amanto in the area were caught in the explosion, and this decided the outcome of the battle, but with the sacrifice of Gintoki also getting buried under the debris from the wrecked ship. It was only thanks to Katsura being so close that they could dig him out fast enough and give him first-aid before he bled to death. And now the ferocious demon was lying motionlessly on one of the rare futons in camp, looking very weak and tired even while sleeping.

He was woken from his thoughts by a distressed sleepy mumble behind him and a sound of slithering cloth. Katsura neglected the teapot and turned when he heard a painful hiss and swearing. He saw Gintoki curled up into a ball on his right side, and was halfway through the room when he called out weakly, “Zuraa, you there?”

Katsura stopped on his tracks. Shiroyasha hadn’t noticed his presence even though he did nothing to conceal it. He shook off the unsettling feeling, went to his side and lightly placed a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s not Zura, it’s Katsura,” he gave the automatic response. “I’m here.”

Gintoki turned to his back with noticeable effort, slumping into the futon, his dull red eyes just barely cracked open. Katsura thought he saw something in his eyes he hadn’t seen for many years. Fear. Whatever he was seeing definitely didn’t match with the real world.

“All of them... Can’t move... Zuraa, I don’t wanna die,” Gintoki said quietly and took a sharp gasp, pain obvious on his face.

“It’s not Zura, it’s Katsura, retard,” he said and lifted his covers carefully, checking the bandages revealed underneath. His entire torso, right hand, and left shoulder were wrapped up, but the most worrying wound was the long deep gash that ran down his left side from upper rib cage to hip. Luckily, no blood had seeped through the bandages, and so Katsura was glad he could place the covers back fast, as even in that brief time Gintoki started shivering from the cold.

He had never seen Gintoki suffer this much because of an injury. Usually he was up and ready to fight after only a few hours – or in more serious cases the next day – but his condition had never gone worse after treatment. Or, well, there were some exceptional cases when he had joined the battle right after being injured, opened up every single one of his wounds again, and had to be carried off from the battlefield as he moaned from pain later. This was not such a case, though, and Katsura found himself worrying for his friend’s _life_ for the first time as another cough left him gasping for shaky breaths and trying to turn to his right side again to relieve some pressure to his left.

 “Listen to me, Gintoki,” he said slowly and clearly while holding him down from his shoulders. It was a good thing that Takasugi wasn’t there to see this. He wouldn’t have known how to deal with a delirious man. “You need to calm down and stop moving. You’re not going to die. I won’t let you. It’s just a little pain. Come on, you can deal with this much, can’t you?”

“But it’s so cold. It’s always so cold after...” he whispered almost inaudibly. Katsura cursed silently and made a note to kill Sakamoto if the idiot was going to dawdle with those blankets much longer. Then Gintoki finally seemed to come aware of his surroundings as he blinked slowly and concentrated on Katsura’s face. He frowned, looking utterly confused and lost for a second, but then a sudden idea seemed to strike him and his eyes lit up with an odd light. “You think Yuki-onna’s* here?” he asked.

“Idiot!” Katsura snapped, letting go of his shoulders, relieved to see his friend back in this world. Well, as back as he could ever get, anyway. “Yuki-onna only comes during snowstorms.”

“You’re the idiot. Who’d want to come during snowstorms?”

Katsura considered that argument. “You do have a point,” he said eventually. “I believe anyone would prefer warm summer nights over winters. And on top of that, who’d ever expect her in summer? It’d be the perfect time to take on unsuspecting victims... Well, you’re too ugly to get her attention anyway, so don’t worry.”

“Oi, who’re you callin’ ugly? Do you want to die in a ditch somewhere, you bastard? B’sides, isn’t _not_ getting her attention even worse than getting it? Doesn’t she freeze those she _doesn’t_ like to death? I mean... er, no, never mind. It doesn’t matter. If she came I’d screwed anyway. I take pride in my bachelorhood. However, _you’d_ like her, wouldn’t you, Zura? You know, with her being married and everything? You’d do all kinds of kinky stuff with her, wouldn’t you?”

“Ha! Wrong! You can’t get me with that! Yuki-onna is a widow already. I know that.”

“That’s even better for you, isn’t it?” he smiled sneakily.

“Shut up, asshole. I’m only interested in the life stories of widows. _Only_ the life stories. Don’t go off thinking something dirty on your own.”

Gintoki looked like he was about to laugh for the first time that night, but flinched and stopped before he could. “So how long was I asleep?” he asked instead.

“Not long. Half an hour, maybe, and I liked you more when you were asleep so please fall into a coma.”

“Aw, and after I went through all that trouble and woke up just to see if you were lonely and wanted to talk? Appreciate the effort a little, you bastard!”

He really did look exhausted, like it took a great effort just to stay awake.

“Nightmares?” Katsura asked quietly and Gintoki didn’t give him an answer. Nightmares were uncommon when it came to the four of them. Fighting against monsters from outer space, their real life was usually much more terrifying than anything anyone could ever even begin to imagine. “Hold on, I’ll get you something warm to drink. I think I still have some of that Kiyoshi’s Miracle Sleeping Powder left somewhere...”

“What? No! I don’t wanna drink that crap! Nobody even knows what Kiyoshi puts in there and every time someone asks he just laughs awkwardly and walks away. Whatever’s in there, it tastes like garlic water and camel pee filtered through three weeks old socks and the last time you forced it down my throat I had a freaking blue devil sitting on my shoulder for a week!” Gintoki argued, terror creeping up on his face. But this pretended fear was something Katsura could easily deal with.

“Really? Is that how it works for you? I heard that Sakamoto just couldn’t taste anything for a while and had blue vision for a day. But even he had to admit that it worked.”

“Yeah, it works like a damn charm if I wanna sleep well one night and be freaked out for the rest of the week,” he looked into the distance for a second. “Some of those things that little blue bastard whispered _really_ creeped me out... Zura, I’m serious. I don’t want to drink that.”

“Well _fine_ then, if you’re going to be like that,” Katsura pouted. Then Gintoki had another coughing fit, and though it was blessedly lighter than before, he still felt the unpleasant sting of concern as his friend breathed raggedly.

“But you should still drink something warm.” Gintoki seemed considerably weaker than he’d been before and Katsura doubted he had the strength to keep himself up for an extended period of time. There weren’t enough pillows to build something for him to lean against and the shack was left unbelievably empty by its last master – there wasn’t even a single chair that could be used.

In the end he dragged both his own and Gintoki’s bag over and shoved them under the head of the futon. Both their bags were small, holding only the things the truly needed, but they built up enough height so that Katsura could help Gintoki into a half-sitting position against them. Then he poured tea he’d been making before into two cups, trusted one of them into Gintoki’s slightly shaking hands, and took the other to himself.

“Just so you know, I don’t plan on sitting here nursing you all night, so you’d better go back to sleep after you finish your tea. In the meantime, do you wish to hear a bedtime story?”

“Who’d want a story from you?” Gintoki asked rhetorically, blowing steam from the cup.

“Something that’d cheer you up? I heard this one story a few months ago.”

“No, please stop. I don’t wanna hear it.”

“Long, long ago, twins named Chi and Cho...” Katsura started.

“Those are some really stupid names. Stop.”

“...lived happily together with their stepmother.”

 _“Stop! Please,_ I’ll give you three hundred yen if you stop now.”

“But little did they know...” Katsura continued, completely unaffected.

“DUDE! STOP!”

“...that their lives would soon change drastically.”

“Aaah, there he goes again! _SOMEBODY, MAKE HIM STOP!”_

“It all begun on a lovely spring day when...”

“Heey, what’s all the fuss about? Did I miss anything?” Sakamoto suddenly appeared in the doorway, his smile as wide as usual.

“ _Thank gods,_ Tatsuma, make that idiot stop.”

“Oh, Sakamoto, you’re right on time. Gintoki was feeling a little down so I was just about to tell him a story I heard awhile ago.”

“Who the hell was feeling a little down here?”

“A story? What kind of story? I wanna hear it too! It has _that_ in it, doesn’t it?” Sakamoto winked.

“Don’t encourage him! And what the hell do you mean by _that?_ ”

“I’m sorry, Sakamoto, but it doesn’t have _that_ in it. You can get those kinds of stories from different brothels I’m sure you’re very familiar with. Or from Kiyoshi, though his stories are always a little bit...” he searched for the right word, “impossible.”

“Oi, don’t ignore me, dammit!”

“Oh, come on, Kintoki, don’t be such a killjoy! Even if it doesn’t have _that_ in it, let the man talk if he wants to!”

“M’name’s not freaking Kintoki, and I know you know it, idiot. I’ve heard you use my real name plenty of times.”

“What? Have I been getting your name wrong? Why didn’t you say anything, Kintoki? Man, this is embarrassing, hahahahah!”

“Did you hear what I just said? Can you even understand human speech? You’re kinda pissing me off. I’m seriously considering hitting you real hard now, you know.”

“Guys, shut up! I'm starting to think you don’t really want to hear my story.”

“WE DON’T!”

“Haha, sorry ‘bout that, Zura, carry on,” Sakamoto kindly gave his permission.

“Screw you guys,” Gintoki gave up with a sigh. “Do what you want but do it somewhere else. I’m tired. I’m going back to sleep,” he said and attempted to drink the last of his tea but choked on it  and coughed harshly, leaned forward and brought up his knees as he desperately gasped for air almost whimpering in pain. Katsura moved in quickly to take away the cup and support him when he swayed to the side, while Sakamoto removed the bags. Then they laid him down carefully and Sakamoto pulled the two haoris over him.

“Come on, Kintoki, don’t pass out yet,” Sakamoto said after letting him breathe and calm down a while. Then he took out a couple of pills from his pocket. “Here, you gotta take these first.”

“Those are..?” Gintoki gasped out.

“Painkillers.”

“But...”

“Doctor’s orders so don’t fight me on this one.”

“You need to rest, Gintoki, but the pain will only keep you awake so... _stop that,_ ” Katsura added when Gintoki turned his face away. He gently lifted up his head, trying to get him to open his mouth. “Take them, get a good night’s sleep, you’ll feel better by morning, and _I told you to stop that do not think you can win against me now._ ” He flicked his forehead and grinned victoriously when Gintoki reluctantly opened his mouth and allowed Sakamoto to pop the pills in. The remaining tea Katsura forced him to drink made him cough again, but it wasn’t as bad as before and it didn’t stop him from glaring at them angrily.

“See, it wasn’t so bad,” Sakamoto smiled widely.

“You guys are dicks,” Gintoki whispered, but his eyes were already drooping.

Katsura put his hand over his friend’s eyes. “Yeah, yeah, now sleep, idiot,” he said softly. When he removed his hand, Gintoki was asleep.

“Seriously, it’s like dealing with a teenager,” Katsura complained quietly when he was sure Gintoki was out.

“Haha, he _is_ a teenager. You’re a teenager too, Zura.”

“It’s not a teenager, it’s almost twenty.”

“You’re eighteen.”

“Eighteen is almost twenty.”

“Is he out?” Takasugi suddenly stuck his head in upside down from the doorway.

“Yeah, finally,” Katsura sighed.

“Oh good, Takasugi-kun, you’re here too,” Sakamoto said. He wasn’t smiling anymore. “We need a plan.”

“A plan?”

“Yeah. The enemy. They’re gonna be making their move tomorrow. We need to get out of here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Yuki-onna (雪女 - lit. snow woman) - a spirit or yōkai in Japanese folklore. There are many legends involving Yuki-onna, but here I used Lafcadio Hearn's version (I DO NOT own this story or characters in any form):  
> A long time ago, there lived two woodcutters, Minokichi and Mosaku. Minokichi was young and Mosaku was very old.  
> One winter day, they could not come back home because of a snowstorm. They found a hut in the mountain and decided to sleep there. On this particular evening, Mosaku woke up and found a beautiful lady with white clothes. She breathed on old Mosaku and he was frozen to death.  
> She then approached Minokichi to breathe on him, but stared at him for a while, and said, "I thought I was going to kill you, the same as that old man, but I will not, because you are young and beautiful. You must not tell anyone about this incident. If you tell anyone about me, I will kill you."  
> Several years later, Minokichi met a beautiful young lady, named Oyuki (yuki = "snow") and married her. She was a good wife. Minokichi and Oyuki had several children and lived happily for many years. Mysteriously, she did not age.  
> One night, after the children were asleep, Minokichi said to Oyuki: "Whenever I see you, I am reminded of a mysterious incident that happened to me. When I was young, I met a beautiful young lady like you. I do not know if it was a dream or if she was a Yuki-onna..."  
> After finishing his story, Oyuki suddenly stood up, and said "That woman you met was me! I told you that I would kill you if you ever told anyone about that incident. However, I can't kill you because of our children. Take care of our children..." Then she melted and disappeared. No one saw her again. ( Lafcadio Hearn “Kwaidan: Stories and Studies of Strange Things”, Wikipedia: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yuki-onna)  
> Consider the part where Zura says that she is a widow just a creation of his wild imagination.


	4. Jumping Jacks Can't Prove Anything

Fifteen minutes later the five of them were sitting around a map spread out on the dusty ground. Takasugi, Sato, and Katsura on one side, Sakamoto and Kiyoshi on the other. Usually it would have been Gintoki instead of Sato, but while he was out of commission, Sato took over leading the small group of people around Gintoki. Or, well, _leading_ was not the best word for it as Gintoki rarely bothered with direct orders. More like he took responsibility over the group’s general actions and whereabouts while not exactly telling them what to do. Still, they were all good fighters despite most of them being younger than average and they all followed Gintoki out of their own free will.

“So about eight hundred of them will be coming at us from northeast most probably from between this mountain and the river,” Kiyoshi said between two mouthfuls of soba, pointing at the map with his chopsticks. “I checked this smaller path as well, but I don’t think they’re gonna bother cutting through a shrub. They might, though.”

“The river?”

He shook his head. “Too wide and too deep. Can’t cross it unless we build a bridge… Or a boat,” he added. “It gets even worse downstream. Took a look and it’s wet and muddy and soggy and disgusting and it would be impossible to get our supplies through the swamp. And it’s basically an endless wasteland to west from there on anyway. And no Joui-friendly houses to boot, far as I know.”

“So there we’ll be caught in no time. Our only option is to go into the mountains and hide,” Takasugi concluded.

Kiyoshi nodded and focused on his soba. He wasn’t a strategist. He was a spy and information was his field. And whose brilliant idea it was to add those tiny fried chicken strips into that soba? Probably Katsura-san’s.

“There’s nothing there either,” Katsura pointed out. “The Yamakawa family are the only one up there and they support the Bakufu. We can’t get shelter from them. They’d probably give us out even if we sent Sakamoto to them.”

“I didn’t say anything about trying to seek shelter with the Yamakawa family. I meant that we can at least find cover in the mountains for a while. Maybe even until reinforcements arrive,” Takasugi said.

“But isn’t it too obvious?” Katsura argued. “What if they’ve set us a trap? They’d be stupid to not cut off our first and most obvious route of retreat. It’s too much of a gamble. We might get surrounded and if we do, we’re dead.”

There was a pause.

“Then we split up,” Takasugi said.

“Are you an idiot? What good would that do?”

“Plenty good. Look, we’ll have even less fighting power if we have to protect our wounded and the supplies. So we send them off to the mountains and lead the enemy away to the river. If we make enough noise they’ll miss the others and we can take them on there.”

“You plan on leaving the others defenceless?”

“No, but… we’ll split in half. That should be enough.”

“How would that be enough? Gintoki is out. The men are tired. We have barely any fighting power even if we stick together!”

“We’ll figure it out! Like… you still have some of those bombs left, don’t you?”

Katsura shook his head. “No, but I can prepare some.”

“Good. Then we’ll use those and… ” Katsura didn’t say anything, just kept staring. “What? You’ve got any better ideas?”

“We can take this path and go west all together.” He pointed at the narrow road between the mountain ridge and the marsh. “We have reinforcements coming from there. We’ll be out in the open for a while, but if we’re fast enough-”

“Which we’re not,” Takasugi cut in. “With the enemy army at our tail as close as they are I’d be amazed if we even made it _halfway_ there without them catching up. In case you haven’t noticed, while these supplies saved us, we’re now slow as hell. We’d be lucky to cover more than 30 kilometres in one day like this. And even if a miracle happened and we got past the bottleneck safely, after that we’d be out in the open. The Amanto will fly over once and they’ll know our exact location. Sure, reaching the reinforcements as soon as possible would be nice, but it’s too much of a risk.”

“But what if we-”

“Wouldn’t work.”

“Hear me out first!”

“No way. You’re gonna say something stupid like, ‘but what if we used camouflaged umbrellas’ or something. I’m telling you, only idiots would fall for that.”

Katsura crossed his arms. “I was _not_ going to say that. A samurai does not make the same mistake twice.”

“Yeah, sure. Well then, let’s hear your plan. But I’m warning you, if it’s something _as_ stupid as camouflaged umbrellas, I will whack you with my kiseru.”

 Katsura stared at glowing end of Takasugi’s kiseru. Then he turned. “Do you have any ideas, Sakamoto? Sato-san?”

Sakamoto hummed thoughtfully. “To be honest, I’m actually with Takasugi this time. We should go north. We can wait for reinforcements in the mountains. At least there’s a chance to hide.”

“Huh, finally something smart from you. That’s rare,” Takasugi said.

“I wasn’t finished. We should go north but we shouldn’t split up. Zura’s right, we have no fighting power.”

“I agree with Sakamoto-san,” Sato said. “We’re too vulnerable to go to west, but splitting up isn’t exactly a safe thing to do.”

“Fine, then we don’t split up. But we still need to protect our wounded from fighting so how about this: Tatsuma will move out quietly at dawn and hide in the mountains with everyone while Zura, Sato, and me will go and lead the Amanto away from them. We’ll take a squad from my men and a squad from Zura’s. That should be enough to make some noise, yet we won’t leave anyone defenceless.”

Sakamoto nodded slowly and Sato hummed in agreement. Kiyoshi slurped loudly at his soba.

“I don’t like this…” Katsura admitted. “Even if this plan goes through, we’d be in no better position up there than we are here.”

“Uh, actually,” Kiyoshi started, swallowing down the last of his soba, “The Yamakawa family isn’t the only one up there. There’s a village too.”

They stopped, stared at Kiyoshi for a few seconds, then at the map.

“Why didn’t you say that sooner?!” Takasugi demanded.

“Well, you guys seemed pretty happy arguing over strategy and I really wanted to finish this soba which, by the way, was delicious, Katsura-san. It’s bad manners to speak with your mouth full, after all.”

Katsura blushed slightly and turned away while Takasugi facepalmed and moaned something about being surrounded by idiots. Sakamoto just laughed, not sounding forced this time.

But Sato was still studying the map closely. “There’s nothing marked here.”

“That’s because this map is new.” Kiyoshi pointed at a spot in a valley between two mountain ridges. “Right here. It’s small and pretty well hidden so the new official maps don’t show it. Also, as far as I know, the villagers support neither the Bakufu nor the Joui, so it’s not a major spot of interest for anyone. Well, at least they’re not _openly_ supporting anyone, but I can imagine they’re pretty damn pissed at the Amanto for bombing their fields during the first invasion. I think it might be possible to negotiate with them. We have enough so called luxury items* that we have no use for, right? We could probably trade something for shelter and maybe even medical supplies.”

“How do you know all this anyway? I haven’t heard anything,” Takasugi asked.

“Ah, well, I used to live around here when I was a brat. Until I joined the army I corresponded with some old friends. They kept me updated on what was happening.”

“This is perfect then. Zura you don’t have a problem now that we have a place to go, right?”

“I guess…”

“Then, Kiyoshi, you can take care of the negotiations. Take off as soon as-”

“Err, there’s a bit of a problem with that, Takasugi-san. You see, the village head _might_ still kind of hate me for what I did back then.”

“What do you mean? It’s been years, right? Surely he has forgiven you for whatever sins you committed.”

“Yeah… no. Sorry, sir, some sins won’t be forgiven even after decades have passed. I’d rather not show my face around him if possible,” Kiyoshi grinned at a distant memory, then turned to Sakamoto. “But I’m sure Sakamoto-san is more than qualified to take care of it all. Just be sure not to mention my name _no matter what_.”

“So you don’t wish to visit home?” Katsura asked quietly.

“Huh? Oh, no, no. My home was burnt down during the first Amanto invasion when I was seven. My family moved to Kyo after that, so there is nothing left for me here. As I said, I kept corresponding with a friend who stayed here until we decided to join the Joui together a few years ago and he told me that Kuriko-chan grew up to be a real beauty so I guess I wouldn’t mind seeing her once more, but other than that I’d rather stay away. It could turn really ugly if I didn’t.”

“Uh, I don’t even want to know what you did,” Takasugi groaned. “Tatsuma, you can handle it?”

He smiled widely. “Sure I can. Shelter and meds, right? Come on, Kiyoshi, you gotta tell me all you remember about the village. Especially that Kuriko-chan you mentioned. I wanna know allll about her.” He threw an arm around Kiyoshi’s shoulders, urged him up, and led him away, leaving Takasugi, Katsura, and Sato around the map.

None of them needed to ask what had happened to Kiyoshi’s friend. After all, Kiyoshi didn’t suggest asking him for more information and that was enough to tell them the whole tale. That aside, there was still something bothering Katsura.

“I still don’t like this. This route is too dangerous. If we fail and they are ambushed… If Sakamoto doesn’t make it back to them in time we’d have no means to protect them. Gintoki can’t handle neither fighting nor leading right now. The men are all tired, too. I mean, they’re brave and they would survive but at what cost? I still think we should go west. They wouldn’t expect that”

 “There’s nothing out there. We’d be out in the open. The mountains are better,” Takasugi argued. “We just have to succeed and Tatsuma’ll have to make it back. To be honest, there are too many things that could go wrong so I’m not exactly convinced it’s the best idea, either. And I can’t believe I’m saying this, but we _could_ really use Gintoki with us. Shiroyasha attracts a lot of attention. Too bad the stupid idiot just _had_ to get hurt so bad at such a critical time.”

Katsura sighed, rubbing his eyes with one hand.

“Umm, how is Gintoki-san anyway?” Sato asked hesitantly.

“Sleeping for now so not too bad but... not too good either. He needs a lot of rest and he certainly won’t be fighting for a while,” Katsura answered. Gintoki had settled down and was sleeping more or less peacefully after taking the medicine. His cough was still bad enough that someone had to keep an eye on him, but luckily the night was long and if all went well, he had the time to sleep and recover until sunrise.

Not that the rest of them could get any rest now. There was still much to do. They argued a long time over how to lead the enemy away. Sakamoto left the camp as soon as the moon rose, hoping he’d make it to the village at dawn to strike a good deal. Takasugi went to prepare the men for battle and help with arranging and packing the supplies with Sato while Katsura stayed behind with Kiyoshi to keep watch over the shack and prepare some bombs.

-.-.-

Gintoki stared dazedly at the roof as Katsura tied off the last knot. The sun would rise in about half an hour or so and had already started dying the pale early morning sky with honey gold and light pink. He’d just finished telling the other about their plans and was mildly surprised and a little worried that Gintoki didn’t oppose anything.

“There wasn’t enough room on the carts with all the other injured and the extra supplies, but we got you the messenger horse. It’s not very comfortable, but it’s better if you don’t walk around too much on your own. And since you’re bad with horses I ordered someone to take care of it while you rest. Saito-kun is a nice kid so don’t be too rough on him. He’s got a broken arm too, so try not to do anything stupid that’d make him use it. And be sure to drink plenty of water.” Gintoki was still gazing at the ceiling as if it was a magnificent piece of art, which, Katsura knew, was a bad simile. The man cared about fine arts even less than he cared about his own safety on a battlefield, and that really said something. He flicked his forehead lightly. “Oi, are you listening?”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”

Katsura sighed, but let it go. Gintoki had woken the second he went to check on him that morning. He was by no means a morning person even under normal circumstances but, since Gintoki rarely accepted any kind of painkillers, he had developed a habit of sleeping off the pain. Him being willingly awake after being injured either meant that he had already recovered, or that he was in too much pain to sleep. No doubt this case was the second one. It really would’ve been best to put him on one of the carts but they all knew he wouldn’t stay there no matter what.

“Try to rest a little more. I’ll help you get dressed after everything’s done.”

Gintoki didn’t answer so he left him still staring at the ceiling to go and make sure that everything else was ready and set to go. He talked to Takasugi and Sato a while, going through their plans one more time and gave Saito some last minute instructions how to handle Gintoki in case the idiot tried to do something stupid like lead the men. He was just about to return to the shack when a voice he really didn’t want to hear called out from behind him,

“Oi, Zura! Help me with this a little, would you?”

Katsura turned sharply to see Gintoki walking out of the shack fully dressed with most of his armour on, holding his chest guard with one hand and all hopes that maybe, _just maybe,_ this time the idiot would actually listen faded like a drop of ink in a lake. He crossed his arms.

“And just what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“What does it look like? I’m trying to get this stupid thing on but can’t quite reach behind my back so please, oh flexible Zura, help a man out a little.”

“You don’t need it.”

“Aw, now you’re just flattering me. I mean, I guess I could go without it, but, y’see, I’ve lost enough blood for now so I thought I’d try and prevent losing even more for, dunno, a few days.”

“I meant that you’re not fighting today.”

“Then who is?” Gintoki suddenly dropped the lazy drawl and turned sharp. “Tatsuma’s still who knows where striking some deal that might or might not work so he can’t help. And you and Takasugi have been awake since, like, the day before yesterday and tell me, just how much did you rest last night? Other than me who got any rest at all, huh? You think you can lead away an entire army when you’re about to fall over at any moment from exhaustion? I’ll be honest. I wouldn’t trust myself to lead an army right now, but I’d still be much more useful than either of you out there so I’ll be the one to lead the Amanto away from you while you just keep them all safe.”

“We might be tired but at least neither of us nearly died last night!” he exclaimed. A headache hit him all at once like a, well, he would say train but that wouldn’t be very accurate. It was more like a meteorite. Taking it easy sure would be nice but, unfortunately, impossible. “You know a few days without sleep is not enough to slow us down, Gintoki. We can handle the Amanto. I’m serious. You’re not okay so you’re going with them and you are going to rest. End of discussion.”

“Aah!” Gintoki scratched his head furiously. “You think I’m not fine? Then how do I prove it to you that I’m perfectly fine? You want Jumping Jacks? Is that what you want, you bastard? Fine! I’ll give you some Jumping Jacks then! By the time I’m done with those Jumping Jacks the poor bastards will want to be called Jumping Jills because being a Jack was too much for them! That’s what I’ll do! I’ll jump the Jack out of Jumping Jacks for you!”

“There’s nothing you can prove with Jumping Jacks! You were delirious last night _and_ you passed out not half an hour ago during bandage change!”

“Last night doesn’t count and I _almost_ passed out because you tied it too tightly, asshole! It felt like a freaking corset! _You_ try not to pass out when you can’t breathe!”

Katsura suddenly stopped. Then he whispered fiercely, “I _did not_ tie it too tightly. I tied it _perfectly._ ”

“Oh, it was perfect, alright,” Gintoki hissed back. “A perfect murder attempt, that is.”

“It _was not!_ ”

“Was too!”

“Was not!”

“Was too!”

“Was-”

“Okay, okay, knock it off already! You’re acting like children,” Takasugi interrupted.

“What, he started it!” Gintoki exclaimed, pointing a finger at Katsura.

“I did not!”

“Did too!”

“Did not!”

“Did too!”

“That’s enough!” Takasugi shouted and surprisingly both of them actually shut up. “You know, we _could_ use you out there. That stupid white uniform of yours would probably lead them all back to Edo. Zura, you say that there’s no way Gintoki could pull something like this off today?”

“It’s impossible. He should take it really easy at least a few more days.”

Takasugi nodded. “Gintoki, you’re saying that you’re well enough not to screw this up?”

“I am. Though I don’t see why I would need permission from anyone, _especially you,_ to do _anything_.”

“Look, it’s not like I particularly care what you do, but unfortunately there are people depending on you so it would be annoying if you died this easily. You will agree that a wounded man without resolve can neither survive on a battlefield nor lead an army?” Gintoki frowned. “Do you have that resolve?”

“’Course I do,” Gintoki sneered.

“Then,” Takasugi lowered his hand onto the hilt of his sword and Gintoki, feeling the rising tension, mirrored his movement, “do you have the resolve not to lose to me right here and now?”

Takasugi drew and pointed his katana at the other, while Gintoki raised his sword, keeping the blade parallel with the vertical line of his back.

“Takasugi! Gintoki! Stop! You can’t-”

“Shut it, Zura,” Gintoki warned quietly, carefully adjusting his grip around the sword’s hilt.

“We already have an idea how to lead the enemy away so there’s no way we’d let you go alone, but your help would be, well, helpful. And we’re kind of in a hurry so how about this,” Takasugi said. “If you last more than two minutes without getting even a scratch, you can come with us. If you lose, you’ll go with them and, as Zura said, you’ll rest. Also, you gotta buy me a Yakult six-pack. Service fees for testing you.”

“And if I win?”

“And if you win, you can come with us _and_ the rest of your this month’s parfaits are on me.”

Gintoki grinned. “Deal. Be prepared to lose all your money, rich boy.”

“Who the hell are you calling a rich boy?”

“You two need to stop! This is not appropriate!” Katsura tried again. He took a step to stand between them, but stopped immediately when two swords were pointed at him.

“I thought I told you to shut it, Zura,” Gintoki growled. “I’m getting my parfaits no matter what.”

“No way in hell am I buying that bastard even a single parfait, Zura. I’ll cut you where you stand.”

“Wait, that’s what you’re fighting about now?” But they didn’t lower their swords so Katsura sighed, stood back and crossed his arms. There was nothing he could do anymore. The only thing to do when those two got like that was to watch the duel and make sure things wouldn’t get too dangerous. That could prove to be tricky at times.

“Don’t kill him, Takasugi,” he warned.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“Oi, aren’t you worried that I’ll kill him instead, Zura?” Gintoki asked.

“It’s not Zura, it’s Katsura. And no, I’m not.” Katsura watched the two take a stance again.

“Y’know, I’m not sure if that just now was an insult or not so I’ll just ignore it, ‘kay?” Gintoki’s voice was unusually soft from concentration.

“I think it’s obvious,” Takasugi said, adjusting his grip on his sword. “It was an insult.”

“No way. Zura wouldn’t do that to me. We’re the top tag team, after all.”

“Hell if you are.”

Takasugi took a moment to fix his footing before charging, crossing the distance between him and Gintoki almost faster than eye could follow. Katsura heard Saito gasp softly next to him, but he was used to that kind of speed and so was Gintoki. He could easily follow how Gintoki brought up his blade to block, broke free from the lock and countered with a swift slash which Takasugi avoided easily by jumping back. However, he wasted no time to deal powerful strike at Gintoki’s left side, leaving him no other choice but to clash his sword against his, but instead of trying to push him down with force, Takasugi drew back. He dealt a series of short jabs which Gintoki either dodged or parried before attacking again Gintoki’s left side and when he parried _again_ , Katsura knew he was in trouble.

Normally Gintoki wouldn’t fall for the same trick twice even against Takasugi... or _especially_ against Takasugi. They had duelled since they were kids so by now they both knew each other’s habits, strengths, and weaknesses like the back of their hand. If Gintoki fell for the same move twice in a row then Katsura knew for certain that he was losing.

A few seconds and some strong hits from Takasugi later Gintoki suddenly paled and hesitated with his counter for about half a second. That was enough for Takasugi to disarm him with a swift move and land a solid kick at his uninjured side.

Even from where they were standing he could see that Takasugi held back greatly with that kick. It was an unfair move nonetheless and Katsura heard Saito silently wince next to him. However, he obviously did not hold back enough because Gintoki still fell on his knees with his arms wrapped tightly around himself, trying to suppress a groan, if not a yell, with gritted teeth.

Takasugi spent a few moments watching him draw controlled shallow breaths, then sheathed his sword.

“I expect to see the Yakult tonight. Starting from midnight the interest will be one bottle per hour. Let’s move, Zura,” he added more loudly.

Katsura ignored him and took a hesitant step towards Gintoki to see if he was okay, but stopped when he pushed himself up, picked up his sword and walked away without looking back. He almost didn’t even sway.

“How long do you think he’ll stay up?” Katsura asked quietly. “I guess ten minutes.”

Takasugi looked at him oddly. “I’ll bet half an hour. Hey, kid,” he turned to Saito. “Tell which one of us was right after this’s all over.”

“Ah, right!” Saito snapped to attention. He quickly picked up the chest armour Gintoki had left lying on the ground and hurried after him, leading the horse by the reins with his one good hand.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * The so called luxury items being the things looted from the Amanto ship, including such things as: twelve sets of colourful fairy lights, six old radios which for some unidentifiable reason only played Rick Astley’s “Never Gonna Give You Up”, and a whole lot of bendy straws. Unfortunately, the fancy outer space beer as well as a whole box of Tamagotchis went missing almost immediately after they were rescued from the burning ship. As for why would an Amanto warship have such objects on board, well, sometimes it’s best not to ask too many questions.


	5. It's All about the First Impressions

Gintoki suddenly turned and threw the kid walking behind him a prying gaze, squinting his eyes a little. The kid flinched and almost dropped the horse’s reins.

_‘Shit,’_ he thought glumly, looking back down at the dusty ground. It wasn’t his plan to scare the hell out of him. By the looks of it, the boy had even almost peed his pants and it would have cheered Gintoki up a little if the situation hadn’t been so dark. He hated to admit it, but Takasugi and Zura had probably been right. Maybe it was a good thing he hadn’t gone Amanto-hunting with them. His wounds had done a number on him and he was already getting tired. A short break would be highly welcome. But after scaring the poor kid like that, it would’ve been embarrassing to ask for a ride.

Gintoki let out an irritated sigh. Zura would never have trouble like this. That long-haired idiot was getting along with his company so well that every time he so much as had a splinter in his finger, they’d force him to be carried on their arms. Gintoki could never get along with the troops well enough. Except for a few idiots who swam close and refused to leave his side, most of them kept their distance and he was happy with that. He had learned fast that it was easier that way.

Takasugi would have never gotten injured at all. He was so small he would’ve easily fit into one of those lockers Zura talked about. Hell, if he wasn’t such a giant asshole, that midget could probably find refuge in just about anyone’s pocket. Besides, even if he had been hurt, he had that ridiculously enormous pride of his that would’ve kept him on his feet. But Gintoki didn’t want to waste energy he didn’t even have to begin with for some stupid pride.

And Tatsuma, the fluffy idiot, just had the devil’s luck. Gintoki had never even seen the guy with an injury more serious than a minor concussion or some small scratches or a broken leg that one time. If Tatsuma had been the one on that ship he most likely would have simply found an extra big locker. Or it would’ve just fallen on him before the whole shebang went kaboom.

He sighed grimly. Of course only Gintoki would have such rotten luck. Life was so unfair. Though he _could_ cut the amount of improvised solo missions he took on. But then again, following plans and orders was a pain, and _giving_ orders was even more of a pain. As long as he wasn’t causing too much trouble to the other troops it was fine. They were all used to it anyway.

And he really, _really_ could have used a break. The constant ache in his side and chest was getting worse with every step and it required a lot of willpower just to stay on his feet. The occasional cough certainly didn’t make it any easier. Shiroyasha would never end up face first in the dirt.

_‘Or in horse crap,’_ he added after a brief inspection of the current ground conditions. He needed a plan. And fast.

What if he _almost_ tripped on a rock or something? That’d get the kid’s attention and then he’d offer Gintoki a ride... right? He could even pretend to be reluctant to accept the offer. Yeah, this should work. Now he only needed a rock of the right size, and there was one coming up so all he had to do was to stub his toe ever so lightly, start falling, and then, exactly at the right moment, bring forward his other foot to balance himself, and _where the hell did that other rock come from there wasn’t supposed to be another rock and oh this was going to hurt._

The next thing Gintoki came aware of was that he’d been right. It hurt like hell.

“Shiroyasha-san? Are you alright, sir? Sir!” somebody called from the edge of his consciousness and he tried to ignore the blinding lights flickering behind his eyelids. Then he opened his eyes and found himself staring truth with the biggest piece of horse dung he’d ever seen.

“Sir?” The kid – wait, what was his name again? – was crouching down next to him. “Although I, too, find that particular piece of excrement extremely fascinating, we ought to keep on moving. We’re behind as it is.”

“No, no, it’s nothing like that,” Gintoki explained, voice muffled against the dusty ground. “I really don’t take any weird interest in crap. I just dropped 50 yen. Yeah. 50 yen. So I wanted to get it back.”

“Yes, sir. How silly of me to think of anything else. But sir, if you have found your 50 yen, I think it would be best if you got back up. We’re falling behind.”

“Sure, no problem,” he said, turned very slowly and carefully on his back, then reached out with one hand. “Y’know, it’s not like I can’t get up or anything stupid as that.”

“Of course not, sir,” he took Gintoki’s hand and pulled him to his feet, supporting him as he wobbled unsteadily.

“Sir, are you sure you do not wish to ride the horse and rest a little while? I assure you, no one would mind.”

_‘Yes! Part A of the plan is a full success! Moving on to part B.’_

“Don’t be stupid. I can walk on my own just fine. A true samurai will overcome all difficult situations without fail with only his iron will accompanying him.”

“If you say so, sir. Um... sir?”

“What’s up?”

“Then why are you climbing it?”

“Huh? What are you blabbering about? Nobody’s climbing nothing here. You should probably have your eyes checked,” Gintoki said as he settled down on the saddle.

“Right you are, sir,” he sighed and took the reins again. “Must be the heat.”

Gintoki frowned. He’d been feeling like freezing up all morning. His body must really be a mess if he couldn’t even feel the heat. Well, whatever. Now that he had successfully executed his elaborate plan, he intended to use the situation fully for his own good. He leaned forward on one arm to keep as much weight off his chest and side as he could, and closed his eyes, trying to get as comfortable as it was possible on a horse, which, unsurprisingly, was not a whole lot.

They had been on this dusty road for about an hour. The forest had been left behind a little while ago and the mountains were up ahead but it would take them maybe another hour before reaching the somewhat safer area between the first hills.

Except for the sound of a few crows quarrelling not too far from them it was fairly quiet. Too quiet for comfort, actually. Like before a devastating storm. There were no storm clouds in sight, though. The sun was shining like someone was paying it to heat up the world like a sauna and there wasn’t a breath of wind. It truly wasn’t at all surprising that the kid complained about the heat and for a moment Gintoki idly wondered how bad off he’d be if it was winter.

They had been travelling for maybe ten minutes before the silence became too much. “So why’d you join?” Gintoki asked, opening his eyes to the bright sunlight once again.

“Err... I believe it was to, ‘Chase Out The Amanto Who Tarnish Our Cherished Land With Their Dirty Paws And/Or Hooves And Fix Our Nation!’ sir.”

Gintoki snorted. “Yeah, right. That’s what Zura wrote on those slogans to get the young idiots to join, alright. I meant the real reason.”

“It’s nothing unusual,” he shrugged a little awkwardly. “In order to receive my girlfriend’s father’s approval for marriage, I needed to earn some honour and glory in battle first.”

“Marriage, huh?” Gintoki stared at him in disbelief. No matter how he looked, the boy could be no older than 16 – not that he was that much older himself. Common knowledge was that the leaders of this army were all 18 years old, but that wasn’t quite true. Back when they joined they had had to lie a little about their age. Still, no wonder the girl’s father sent the kid to prove himself.

“If all you’re searching for is, uh, glory and honour and whatnot, then wouldn’t it have been smarter to join the Bakufu’s army? You seem like a fairly reasonable guy. Isn’t it kinda stupid to team up with a bunch of rebels when you’ve got a girlfriend waiting for you at home? If you get caught you’ll probably end up beheaded, y’know, and there’s no life insurance coming from this end, either. Don’t get me wrong now – it’d be a pain to test your loyalty or whatever. If Zura trusts you then that’s enough for me. Just asking out of interest.”

He thought for a while, staring at the dusty road. More crows were gathering on the branches of a nearby tree. “Couldn’t say for sure, sir, but I guess that joining the Jouishishi sounded more sensible for me at that time. And it seemed that my father-in-law-to-be preferred the Joui’s reasons to fight, too. He thinks that Japan shouldn’t be ruled by some aliens from outer space. I personally do not think that it is possible to actually chase out the Amanto anymore, but I believe we should at least show them that the samurai are not yet extinct and that we are still very much of a threat if they just ignore us.” He stopped for a second. “And although I cannot fully comprehend this, despite the slogans, Katsura-san has a way to attract people into joining him and staying beside him until the bitter end.”

Gintoki gave him a long look. “You’re actually pretty perceptive, aren’t you? So you say you’re willing to follow Zura to the bitter end?”

“I would prefer to avoid a bitter end, sir, but if that is what the situation calls for, then yes.”

“That so? Wouldn’t your girlfriend be sad?”

“Yes. She would also want to kill me in the most gruesome way possible for dying before her, but she would forgive me and move on eventually. I have made many precious friends here and abandoning them is something I cannot bring myself to do. So I will try my best staying alive and going back to her, but if my death means that I can protect my friends, then I won’t regret it.”

“That resolve of yours would work better if you hadn’t broken that arm, though,” Gintoki nodded towards his splint. “Y’know, people tend to do a much better job at protecting something when they’re not injured.”

“Indeed, sir. It was a rather regrettable mistake. However, one might say the same things about you, wouldn’t you agree, Shiroyasha-san?”

“Hey, I can still fight if necessary. I’m just a little anemic at the...”

“Sir, I was there when they brought you back last night,” he cut in, his voice quiet. “The medic yelled at them at first for bringing in a corpse, and truthfully, I can’t blame him. I didn’t know anyone could survive losing that much blood, let alone run around like this the next day. And by the looks of it, sir, your body didn’t know it either. I wouldn’t say that _‘just a little anemic’_ is the best way to describe your condition right now.”

Gintoki straightened up and leaned his hand against the hilt of his sword. “Do not _dare_ underestimate Shiroyasha, _boy.”_

“Wouldn’t even dream of it. Only that Shiroyasha would _never_ end up face first in the dirt _, sir.”_

Gintoki glared daggers at the kid’s completely blank face for a short while but when he didn’t show any sign of regretting his words, he gave up with a sigh and lumped back down onto the saddle. The second time he lost an argument just that morning. Any other time he wouldn’t admit his defeat even if the entire world burned, but right now he was way too tired to keep up such an argument. It was going to be a long day and he was not going to enjoy it _at all_. He liked the kid better when he was almost peeing his pants.

“Geez, Zura sure gave me a feisty one. Do you act so condescendingly with everyone? Man, how’d you even get a girl to like you? Is she that, y’know, a masochist or something?”

“No, _sir!_ I only act condescendingly with foolish superiors, _sir!_ I am extremely gentle when it comes to Mitsuko, _sir!”_

Gintoki snorted and turned away, ending the conversation. The little rest he’d had was good, but he felt his strength was lingering. His ribs and side were still aching but at least they weren’t _throbbing_ anymore – at least as long as he wasn’t coughing – so Gintoki considered that as a rather good sign. He was still cold and wished he was wearing more than his usual clothes, but there wasn’t much he could do about that. Hopefully staying still and getting some more sleep would solve that problem soon enough.

Sleeping on horseback wouldn’t be too impossible – Gintoki had slept in weirder places – but the noise the gathering crows were making was really starting to get on his nerves. Gintoki didn’t like crows. They brought back some memories he’d rather have buried as deep as possible. And that wasn’t the only problem with crows. If they made too much noise they might give away their location. Zura and Takasugi could lead the enemy away only as long as the enemy didn’t know where the rest of them were. The moment they found out they’d be all over them not even glancing towards the small group trying to mislead them.

Gintoki suddenly sat up straight, ignoring the moment of dizziness from the too sudden movement. Why were they gathering here anyway? If there was carrion somewhere he’d understand. If there was a fresh battlefield somewhere near he’d understand even better. But the only bloodshed in the near future would be where Zura and Takasugi were and even that was if they failed and had to engage in battle. Unless, of course, they had failed already and were all dead and the crows just gathered where their next feast would be. But Gintoki knew Zura and Takasugi were better than that. Even if they couldn’t get back they’d find a way to send them a warning.

Unless, of course, they didn’t _know_ they had failed.

Gintoki quickly studied their surroundings, careful not to miss anything that might be important. They were pretty much out in the open. The mountains were closer now but it would take a while before they got there. He couldn’t be sure they’d be any safer there, but it was the only chance they had.

“Hey, kid, hurry it up,” he said quietly.

“Sir?”

“We need to catch up. Right now.”

 


End file.
